The Kitch Lit Series: Wild Game

I devoured Wild Game (pun intended) over the course of about a day and a half. Rarely does a book cross my nightstand that I consider hard to put down. You would not believe the crap friends gave me for putting down Harry Potter with only one chapter left, but that is how I roll. A book is easy to put down when sleep is waiting on the other half of the pillow. Such is not the case with Adrienne Brodeur’s Wild Game; it demands your attention. 

Brodeur’s memoir is equal parts heartbreaking and life affirming. At the center of the book is Brodeur’s relationship with her mother, Malabar. Malabar is larger than life, caring for others but never able to truly put anyone ahead of herself. Adrienne and Malabar’s relationship is changed forever when Malabar wakes teenager Adrienne in the middle of the night to tell that she is having an affair with family friend Ben Souther. Adrienne becomes complicit in the lies, an ally and an alibi. One of the ways in which Malabar, a talented home cook, and Ben spend time with each other in the presence of their spouses is planning and testing recipes for a wild game cookbook. And the lies continue for years. Adrienne comes of age with an incredible weight on her shoulders, but the responsibility also binds mother and daughter in an entirely unique way. Can Adrienne interpret Malabar’s willingness to confide in her a true sign of her mother’s love? The path Brodeur, her mother and their families’ take is full of twists and turns. To reveal too much would be to deprive you of the opportunity to step into their lives as their stories unfold.

Brodeur is an incredibly engaging writer. The anticipation of what is to come is palpable; the pages practically turn themselves. In less that capable hands, an interesting life does not translate to a good book. Brodeur is, thankfully, incredibly adept at putting emotion onto the page and, without caricature, explores the flawed humanity of those around her in a way that is entirely relatable from one angle or another.

The affirmation in Wild Game comes from the fact that this is not revisionist history. Brodeur must reconcile with her mother’s flaws, and, in the process, with the imperfections inherent in humanity. Wild Game reads like fiction. The fact that it is a memoir gives you pause. While reading Wild Game, one cannot help but hold a mirror up to their own life. Smart, well-written and engaging, Wild Game beautifully combines all of the ingredients of a great memoir.